


Burglars and Breakfast

by foolofatook001



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Cats, F/M, Fluff, don't take anything too seriously, no powers au, this is just the product of a recently re-obsessed Romy fan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolofatook001/pseuds/foolofatook001
Summary: In which there is an attempted break-in and our dashing heroes meet for the first time. Inspired by the prompt "You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend's and I should call the cops but my cat likes you so we're good AU". Rated T for drunkenness (as the prompt indicates).
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue
Kudos: 29





	Burglars and Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags say, this is a No Powers AU. This is my first published attempt at some Romy interaction and I hope I've done them justice, as they're one of my favorite pairings EVER. Also I have no idea whether Kitty is allergic to cats or not but she is in this fic. If you hate the accents, I'm sorry, but I was having too much fun doing them to stop.

_You Broke Into My Apartment Drunk Thinking it was Your Friend’s House and I Should Call the Cops_ _but My Cat Likes You So We’re Good AU_

He sat bolt upright in his bed, displacing Oliver, who gave Remy an annoyed hiss as he leapt from the bed. Remy ignored the cat, focusing instead on the thing that had woken him up: he’d thought he’d heard a noise out in the front room.

There was a thud from outside, and he slipped out from the covers, walking as silently as he could across the room and opening the door.

There was someone in his apartment. He could hear low muttering and footsteps from out in the living room. Quietly, he grabbed the baseball bat that always stood in the corner of his room and crept out into the hall, holding the bat in a ready grip.

When he got out into the living room, he blinked. Instead of the black-clad burglar he was expecting, there was a surprisingly pretty girl by the window, trying with fumbling hands to replace the screen and cursing softly. She had a shock of white hair mixed in with her darker curls, and she’d clearly been out on the town tonight, judging from her clothes.

Remy flicked the light switch on, making the woman turn around with a sheepish look on her face. Her expression quickly morphed into one of confusion. “You’re not Kitty,” she said in a Southern accent, albeit one that was a little slurred. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Think I’d be de one askin’ y’ dat question,” he answered, shifting so the baseball bat was a little more visible. “You de one in my apartment, _fille_.”

“No,” the woman insisted. Remy could tell she was more than a little drunk, now that he was hearing her. “I know this is Kitty’s apartment.”

“Look, I don’t know what t’ tell you,” Remy said, trying to keep his voice polite. She was clearly just mixed up, but she’d still broken into his apartment! He’d have to get that screen replaced, now, too. “Lissen, if y’ don’t get goin’, I’m gonna have t’ call de police, an’ I don’t think neither a’ us wants dat.” He wasn’t planning on it, of course (he didn’t need the police anywhere near his apartment) but she didn’t have to know that.

Oliver, hearing voices, came wending his way out of Remy’s room and down the hall.

“Oh,” said the woman, on seeing the cat. “Um.” The fact that she was not in her friend’s apartment seemed to have finally pierced through the alcohol haze. She looked back up, meeting his eyes and going very red. “I’m real sorry, I’ll jus’ go, I…” She glanced around, her eyes looking anywhere but him. “I can’t b’lieve this.” She stumbled forward a couple steps, stopping as Oliver walked toward her and started rubbing up against her legs, totally unconcerned by the fact that she was a complete stranger.

“Oliver!” Remy snapped, annoyed.

The woman reached down a tentative hand to pet the traitor cat, and Oliver began purring so loudly Remy could hear it from across the room. He couldn’t help but soften a bit as Lucifer and Figaro emerged from the room and came to investigate this new person as well. Anyone his cats liked couldn’t be _that_ bad, right?

And Remy was never one to turn down a pretty lady in distress.

“Lissen,” he said with a sigh, leaning the bat up against the wall. “You’re in no state t’ be goin’ anywhere. Y’can hardly walk straight, _non_? Y’can take de couch out here if y’ want. Don’t know where dis friend a’ yours lives, but y’ don’t want to be outside by y’self dis time a’ night.”

The woman looked up from the cats, her eyes narrowing a little. “You were goin’ to call the police on me,” she said slowly. Her eyes were a little unfocused, but they were the greenest eyes Remy had ever seen.

He shrugged. “De cats like you, _chere_. An’ t’ be honest, dis one don’t really want t’ call de police here at three in de morning. ‘S more trouble den it’s worth.”

“No, I gotta go.” She stood up, swaying a little, then stumbled back. Fortunately, the couch was right behind her; she sat down hard. “On second thought, your couch seems mighty…” She yawned. “Comfortable.”

“Dis one’ll go grab you a blanket,” Remy said, clicking his tongue at the cats.

“You’re… real kind,” the woman called in a slurred voice as he dug around in the hall closet for an extra blanket. She was passed out, lying on her side, by the time he came back. He tossed the blanket over her and turned to head back to bed. Two soft thumps from behind him made him pause, however -- it seemed Oliver and Figaro had decided that the perfect spot to spend the rest of the night was on the couch with the intruder, instead of in their usual place with Remy.

“Traitors, de bot’ a’ you,” Remy told them, scooping up Luci before he got it into his head to abandon him too, and made a dignified exit back to his room.

-0-

Marie woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. She groaned quietly, not wanting to open her eyes just yet. Going out with Jubilee was fun, but definitely not something she wanted to do every night. She hoped she hadn’t woken Kitty up when she came back. Something seemed to be niggling at her, though -- the feeling something was off. And there was a strange, warm weight on her legs. Cautiously, she cracked one eye open.

She was in someone’s living room, on the couch, a blanket tossed haphazardly over her. She sat up slowly, squinting against the light and lightly massaging her temples. The warm thing on her legs shifted, and she looked down to see two cats blinking back at her. A series of thoughts occurred in rapid succession: Kitty was allergic to cats. There were cats here. She was most definitely not at Kitty’s. Where _was_ she?

The orange cat stood, stretched, and walked up her legs, plopping back down in her lap. “Well, aren’t you cute as a button,” she said softly, unable to resist the cat’s soft fur. The other cat jumped off the couch and padded down the hallway.

The sounds of someone else moving around the apartment made Marie jump. Quickly, she laid back down, pretending to be asleep again. Maybe if she saw who’s apartment she was in, her memories from last night would return somewhat. She kept her eyes just open enough to see into the room.

A man about her age came down the hallway, yet another cat following him. He had messy auburn hair that flopped over his eyes. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Marie felt her cheeks heat up a little bit. He was _fit_. And she didn’t recognize him at all. She racked her brain as he moved around the kitchen, trying to think if she’d seen him at the bar last night, but she couldn’t recall seeing him there. She thought she would remember someone like him -- he was good-looking, and that hair was pretty distinctive.

“Oliver,” the man called softly, and rattled something in a dish -- cat food? Marie felt the cat spring off her lap and decided she may as well ‘wake up’. Slowly, she sat up again, then pretended to freeze in surprise when she made eye contact with the man.

He grinned at her. “How’s your head, _chere_?” he asked, in a distinctly Cajun drawl.

Marie couldn’t help but bristle. Fit he may have been, and somewhat incongruously owning three cats, but she didn’t take well to being patronized. “How’d I get here?” she demanded.

The man leaned against the counter, seeming unconcerned. “Y’ broke in. Came right in through de window,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the window in question. “Seemed y’ thought dis was your friend’s apartment. Kitty?”

Marie glanced back at the window and flushed as she took in the screen that was set haphazardly below it, clearly bent out of shape. She did remember something like that, dimly.

“Y’ weren’t in any fit state t’ be walkin’ anywhere, an’ y’ just passed out on de couch after we chatted ‘bout how dis wasn’t your friend’s apartment after all,” the man continued, the smirk on his face indicating he was enjoying her embarrassment far too much.

“Well, thanks for the hospitality,” Marie said, trying to scrape together some semblance of dignity. “But I should really be goin’ -- if I didn’t come home last night, Kitty’s prob’ly been worryin’ her behind off ‘bout me.”

“I got breakfast, if y’ think y’ can keep anythin’ down,” the man offered. “Or coffee, if de headache is _très mauvais_.”

Marie hesitated. Breakfast did sound good, and she knew there would be a lecture waiting for her when she got back to Kitty’s, anyway. As she was deliberating, the orange cat -- Oliver -- came back around to the couch and started butting his head against her legs, asking to be petted again.

The man smiled, and it was such a nice change from the smirk he’d been wearing before that Marie actually blinked. “See, even de cats want you t’ stay, _non_?"

“All right,” she said slowly. “I suppose breakfast couldn’t hurt.”

“Dis one’ll get de cereal,” the man said, as she stood, stretching. She took a seat at the small table in the kitchen.

“Did I really jus’ come in your window an’ pass out on your couch?” she asked, once she’d poured herself a bowl of cereal and the man had slipped into the seat across from her with his own bowl.

“Sure did,” he replied with a shrug. “Surprised me, too.” He paused to swallow a mouthful of cereal. “What’s y’ name, anyway? Never did get t’ dat part of de conversation.”

“Oh, it’s -- Marie,” she stammered. “An’ honestly, I am sorry ‘bout all this, I mean --”

The man waved a careless hand, cutting her off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it none, _chere_. My name’s Remy.” He stuck his hand out to her across the table, and she shook it, unable to help her smile. He grinned at her. “ _Enchanté_.”

They had the rest of their breakfast in amiable silence, Marie still a bit embarrassed and Remy seemingly unaffected by it all.

“I should be goin’,” she said, when they’d both finished. “Thanks for lettin’ me stay an’ not callin’ the cops like a normal person. Your cats are real nice.”

“Ah, I couldn’t call de police on a lady fine as you,” he said with another smirk. “An’ de cats liked you anyways, so I figured y’ couldn’t be dat bad, non?” He shrugged. “Out a’ pure curiosity, where is your friend’s apartment anyhow?”

“Well, where are we at?” Marie asked.

“Dis is River Heights, number 12A,” Remy told her.

Marie sighed. “Kitty’s three doors down,” she told him, knowing he would laugh, which he proceeded to do.

“Y’ weren’t dat far off den, ah, _chere_?” he snickered. “Guess dis one shouldn’t a’ been so worried ‘bout y’ gettin’ home by y’self. Jus’ miscounted de windows, _non_?”

“Yeah, it’s real funny,” Marie said, unamused.

He stopped laughing. “Aw, don’t be like dat. Only makin’ a li’l fun, _chérie_. I’ll walk y’ back, if y’ like. I know Kitty, been a while since dis one said hello. Didn’t realize it was de same one y’ were talkin’ ‘bout.”

“I think I can handle myself,” she said, still a little annoyed, but also knowing he’d been extremely kind to her. Her voice softened. “Really, I ‘preciate everything. Thanks again.”

“No trouble, _chere_ ,” he said, giving her a two-fingered salute. “See you ‘round, den.”

“See you around,” she said, and left.

“ _There_ you are!” Kitty shrieked the second she walked in the door. “You said you were coming home and then you didn’t! Do you know how worried I was? I didn’t get _any_ sleep last night! Where _were_ you?”

“Funny story…” Marie began, the flush creeping back up to her cheeks, but before she could get any further, there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” said Kitty, stalking past her. “But you’re not off the hook yet, girl.” She flung the door open, revealing Remy (thankfully in a shirt this time).

“Marie here?” he asked and Marie glared at him over Kitty’s head. He knew perfectly well she was here, he’d seen her walk down the hall to Kitty’s apartment.

“Oh, hi, Remy. Yes, she is,” Kitty said slowly, turning to look at Marie with one eyebrow arched impossibly high. Marie walked over to stand beside Kitty.

“Y’ left your purse on de couch,” he told her, smirk firmly in place. “De cats were battin’ it ‘round.” He held it out and she snatched it away from him.

“Thanks,” she said, ungratefully. There was no way she could escape the Kitty Inquisition now, and she had a feeling he knew that.

“No problem, _chere_ ,” he said with a smile and a wink, and turned and walked back down the hall.

Kitty shut the door. “Spill. _Now_ ,” she ordered.

-0-

Marie was sorting through her purse that evening when she came across an unfamiliar scrap of paper. On it was a phone number and the words _If you’re ever thinking of breaking in again, just call ahead. The cats would appreciate the advance warning._ She laughed a little, despite herself, and dialed the number, waiting through the rings.

“ _Allo_?”

“This Remy?”

“ _Depends. What y’ want him for?"_

She sighed. “It’s Marie.”

“ _Marie_ , ma chérie! _Y’ found my note, den. Y’ plannin’ on comin’ in my window again? ‘Cause y’ could jus’ use de door. I let you in, promise.”_

“Well, tonight’s a little full, but what d’you think a' Friday?”

“Oui, _I could see dat happenin’,”_ he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice.


End file.
